Facets Amelia's perspective
by Leafwhistler
Summary: Reflections of the princess as she sits in her room. Musings about her sister, the realization of her inner self, and a perspective on how she fits into the Slayers party as a whole. A oneshot. Rated to be safe.


**A/N:** *coughs* It was stuck in my head—and I couldn't write a lick of anything else until I got it out. The rest of the promised stuff is in the works. Honest. Sadly, I'm in rebellion against work and time management. You don't really want to know. I've also been thinking about Amelia for a long time. She's one character I never really got into. She was just entirely too sugary and, well, clingy. But I've been reading more fan fics with her lately and seen her done well. Then this struck me—perhaps not entirely accurate, but maybe it will help other people like me understand Amelia a little better. Let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Slayers. Which is a good thing because otherwise I'd need to hire a bodyguard to protect me from the characters in my head!

* * *

I came to this realization when I was looking in the mirror today. Suddenly the phrase you threw at me came unbidden to my mind. Masks. The memory still stings. The masks you accused me of wearing. I was in the middle of dressing myself for yet another royal reception. But, instead of reviewing what I should say to Emelkia's new ambassador or reviewing the proposed tariffs on whatever new illegal commodity the trade minister thinks he can sneak past me, I sit and think about what you said once more.

Your voice is still perfectly clear. Even after all of these years, dear sister. Though I have neither seen nor heard from you since. In retrospect, I shouldn't be surprised. So soon after mother's death, something neither of our innocent eyes were meant to see—the 'privileges' of royalty so clearly exposed for the lies they were. Looking back, you must have been frightened by the way everything had just changed. And perhaps a little jealous of your kid sister, whom everyone was babying. Who you were suddenly responsible for too.

The memory of you leaving is still sharp. Your legs were so long and you were so beautiful striding away down a dark palace corridor. But for the weight on your arm, you'd have cleared the palace walls already, free to lead your new life. You shook your arm angrily, demanding that I let go in an angry hiss. I can hear my voice pleading with you to stay. It may have sounded cruel to you, but it was so natural in my childish mind to try and convince you to stay. To ask you why you didn't like living here with us anymore.

Perhaps you realized that I wasn't going to let you go without an answer—we're both stubborn like that, I think. Or perhaps you were past the point of caring. But in my mind's eye, I see your eyes softening as you gently kneel and pry my fingers loose one by one and explain in a soft voice that you refuse to pretend anymore. That you won't wear a mask to cover up who you are inside. Masks that you say are smothering you. A lie to those you meet and love. Then I thought that you meant playing pretend. I didn't understand what could be so wrong with it. But you insisted that it was time for you to go. And you did. But what you said echoed through my mind the rest of that night and the years that have passed since.

"_These masks we wear—they will push away those we love most."_

I've thought long and hard about those words. I used to repeat them to myself every night before I went to bed. And after you left, I became determined that I wouldn't fall into the same trap. But then I noticed something about myself. When I was with Papa, I was different. I was the burning power of justice and a daughter who never did anything wrong. In front of the people we rule, I was always the compassionate, slow to anger, well behaved princess. To my tutors, I was always the model student. Expect for manners—I never did figure out how to abate my clumsiness. But it didn't mean that I didn't try. And, suddenly, I wondered if I didn't have a mask for every occasion. Something I hid behind in order to keep the real me from getting hurt. So I made every effort to be completely honest with myself and those I met. To keep my feelings pinned to my sleeve. So no one would ever have to wonder what I was hiding. And gradually, over time, I became convinced that it wasn't really an act. I must just naturally be this way. Though I would be lying if I didn't say that I didn't sometimes privately wonder if I was deceiving myself.

Then I went adventuring. I missed Daddy. And, truth be told, I missed you. Secretly, I've always hoped I might find you out on the road. And, just maybe, that you'd relent and return home with me. But that isn't really the point. It was then that I met Miss Lina and the people who occasionally traveled with her. It was so different. And I acted differently too. Sometimes I was Daddy's perfect daughter. Sometimes I played the part of the princess. Occasionally I played the pupil. Other times, I was someone else entirely. It made me wonder.

How could I be different with each of these people? Was I really none of the things I pretended to be? Was there someone else trapped inside this body, waiting and begging to be discovered? Someone who'd never been let out? Was all that I had really accomplished in life having a mask for every occasion? And so I tried to get rid of my masks. Only to discover to my horror that they'd fused themselves to me. It was impossible to change. Because it was what everyone expected. So I went along with them. Because it was too late to change. And, late at night, I'd worry that someday the façade would come crashing down around me and everyone I loved would leave.

But today, I've discovered that this isn't true. Quite honestly, I can say that I don't recognize the girl in the mirror in front of me. I don't know that we've ever met. Because that is who I am at this moment. I realized this as I reached for the jeweled necklace before me. It shines and sparkles in the light, casting rainbows and shadows across the room. I used to be like this rock before someone fashioned and shaped it. Full of hidden potential. But through the trials in my life and experiences, the rough edges are gradually being removed. I am learning what I am like. I am not always happy. But neither am I always depressed. When I feel a certain way, I truly feel it. It is not merely some mask I conjure up to deal with the situation. Because each experience is unique. I am not a mess of fused masks. Instead I am a jewel with many facets and aspects. Whatever is called forth to greet that trial is still undeniably and irrevocably me.

Lina is my devilish side. Which is not to imply that she is a devil. Or that I am truly devilish either. Perhaps the word I'm really looking for is impulsive. She opens a facet of my personality that allows me to act first and think about the repercussions later. The impulsive side that I rarely indulge when I am 'princessing.' It's a hidden part of my nature that is rarely engaged. It's also gotten us in trouble more times than I can count. But despite the fuss I make, I enjoy almost every second of it. And, somehow, we manage to make it right in the end. When I'm with Lina, I am as free as the wind. I can dance to any tune I create. I can sleep late or rise early. I indulge myself in the realms of the unexpected. Because when I travel with Chaos' poster child, I can do anything and anything can happen. There is no time for second guessing or second thoughts. I live in the now.

Gourry is the sibling I never had. The one I missed after you left. I can tease him and alternately help him as the situation changes. The best part is that he doesn't mind our constantly shifting positions. Sometimes, I get to be the oldest child. I take charge of the more confusing parts of his life. I make sure that he doesn't forget important things (like Lina's birthday…well, I try). I make sure the swordsman isn't getting cheated or taken unfair advantage of. But in many ways, he's my older brother too. He protects me when I get in myself into embarrassing or dangerous situations. And he's always there to offer advice on matters of the heart—something I'm finding I need more of these days. With him, I'm the sibling I never got to be at home.

I confess that Xelloss is a mystery to me. He is the quick silver allure of darkness. He is the forbidden thoughts I'd never confess aloud to having buried deep within. Or sometimes much closer to the surface. In him is the attraction of the deeds some part of me considers, often more frequently than I like. Like taking revenge for our mother. Or lashing out at you, who left me trapped in this palace with no recourse for freedom. I don't often see Xelloss outside of Lina's company. But he occasionally drops by for gossip and a bit of tea.

I know it startles people that I let him come and go without fear or repercussions. At least, those who know of his darker nature. Oh, I joke and speak of nature of justice to those who ask. But part of me understands. It's in his very nature to act the way he does. And it would be hypocritical of me to say that I never dance along those edges. Edges of despair, anger, bitterness. Justice and love do win out in the end. But I'm not perfect. And sometimes, when I am on my own, they slip unbidden into my mind.

He senses that. And he doesn't judge me for it either. He knows and accepts that about me. To some degree, I think he respects my self control. Because after peering into the abyss, I always pull myself back. And I always will because that is part of who I am. There is a silent understanding between us. A shared knowledge of how fascinating those black depths can truly be. And so we live in mutual toleration—the friendship of enemies who understand each other only too well. And have already pardoned the other should they need to terminate the other in the end.

Truthfully. I'm an odd little mix of people. And perhaps that is why the chimera, Zelgadis, fascinates me so. I fully admit that he is wonderful to look at. He also lives behind a mask that he tries to hold every hour of the day. But he glides in and out of it. Never dropping the boundaries he set for himself, but never fully letting himself be bound when it counts. He has seen what lies in the human psyche. Yet he still longs to be a part of it. With him, I am all of my selves. The evil, the happy, the carefree, the burdened, the tormented, the thoughtful, the girl in love. All of the bits and pieces that have been bottled up for so long. Around him they are being freed. One by one. And though he puts on airs, it doesn't seem to truly bother him. He pushes me away no less than anyone else. And, in some ways, he lets me get away with more than anyone else ever has. And so, though it may look foolish to those watching from afar, I keep testing his limits. And letting parts of myself, long denied, free when he's around. It's liberating.

I think I like him because I think he could accept me for who I truly am. And love me for all the facets of my personality, just as I am learning to do for him. I wonder if he will let me share them all. But I understand the fear of rejection he has, because each time I show a different part of myself, I fear he will do the same to me.

Miraculously, that hasn't yet happened. Sometimes he disappears without a word. And I wonder if what I most recently showed him has pushed him away forever. But in time, he always returns. And I am starting to understand that we're a lot alike. That each time he returns he too is testing the waters. Seeing if I can accept what he has revealed about himself to me. And it makes me love him even more. In time, I think we'll be able to find ourselves together. There in lies the cure I think we've both been searching for. And it fills me with hope.

But you, dear sister, I pity. All those years ago I thought you were the smart one for leaving. Freeing yourself of these duties, and the masks you were forced to wear. Never mistake the fact that I still love you. But I also pity you. Because when you ran away, you didn't free yourself at all. Instead, you ran away from who it is you really are.


End file.
